Assassin's Creed Legacies: Arno and Elise
by ACLegacies
Summary: At a time when the divide between the rich and the poor is at its most extreme, a broken France is tearing itself apart, as Arno Dorian and Elise de la Serre fight to avenge all they have lost.
1. Prologue

_Paris, France_

 _September_

 _1794_

Tresses of red hair danced in the wind and her blue eyes matched the sky. As Arno Dorian took one step away, making the gap larger, just like all the times he'd done before. Leaving his heart open wasn't something he usually did, but he couldn't help but feel like it was in this moment. The moment to decide if he should follow her, or leave, heart still intact, she looked to the ground for a brief moment. She had the balance of an expert dancer and the master swordsman.

It was his eyes that stopped Élise de la Serre from running. Diamonds in hazel eyes peeked from under his navy hood. Thoughts began to swim in her head, for he wasn't the same man that she'd known her life. He was grown, blossomed, and strong. She couldn't say goodbye, not yet.

For in that moment as he sheathed his blade, Élise saw the clumsy boy he once was. She didn't imagine that it would all come to this moment, Templars, Assassins; what was fable was true. When 8-year-olds didn't notice other 8-year-olds, it all lead to this. She took a breath, severing the connection she felt and walked away. Leaving behind memories, tomorrow's future, and Arno's heart for him to take back. She couldn't think about his future. His future that was dangerous and the adversity he would face… Overwhelming.

She took one step away, quickening her pace away from the scene, but the stone of emotion that fell from her throat to her stomach forced her to turn around. To join him, to ensure his safety just like all the times before, but when she got back to the lamppost she froze. Arno was gone.


	2. Dolls

_Paris, France_

 _July_

 _1773_

Elise's stomach turned as the carriage stopped. A beautiful morning wasted attending a stupid party. She turned in her seat and felt the itch of pins on her scalp and the discomfort of her gloves being too big.

"How long, mama?" Elise asked, "Must we stay?"

"Yes, we must stay. It's a birthday party for Madame Henriette. Others your age will be there, too. You have nothing to fear." Julie assured as she patted her daughter's hand.

"The girls are no fun." Elise muttered.

The carriage door opened and a hand extended for Julie to take. Elise was jealous of her mother. Chocolate brown hair pulled back and a green dress, Julie opened her matching fan and looked to her daughter to join her. Elise wanted nothing more to be her age, to sit with adults than with the other daughters.

Elise joined her mother and looked to her feet, her eyes grazed over the blue dress that her mother said went with her daughter's eyes. She nibbled on her tongue as the servants escorted them inside the mansion. Elise looked over the women, divided in groups under the lavish rooms. It looked like a garden. Embroidered flowers speckled over the couches and rugs. The women never looked like Julie. Always powdered and perfected. Her mother didn't need it though and proudly let her natural beauty shine through.

"The other children are just this way." The bald butler continued, "I will gladly escort her."

Julie nodded and released her daughters hand, "I'll just be here, darling. Be good now."

Elise let out a sigh that she intended her mother to hear. The butler continued with small talk but Elise easily ignored him. She looked at the grandfather clock and was upset to see that it was only mid afternoon. The party would go on until the sun would set. Elise's stomach dropped as the commotion of young girls laughing began to echo down the mirrored halls. She felt her heart beat a little faster as the butler opened the door.

"Mademoiselle Elise del a Serre," the butler introduced, "Has come to join."

Elise looked at the other faces of the girls sitting at a table, each of them with a porcelain doll that looked like them. Elise remembered her doll… As she gave it away in the city when her mother wasn't looking to a girl in rags and a dirty face. Elise remembered the girl crying and didn't know why she would do that.

"Mm-hmm," one of the girls cleared her throat, "Do you have a doll, Mademoiselle Elise?"

Elise made her way over to the circle of chairs and took an empty one she played with her gloves and looked at the rest of the eyes that looked at her as if she was a pile of garbage.

"I don't. I lost it." Elise cleared her throat.

"Well what do you plan to do then?" A brunette girl piped, "Because we're playing with dolls."

Elise watched the girls as they groomed their dolls; they seemed to ignore Elise, which wasn't known to her. Her eyes looked to the door and the sliver of light it let in, wishing that she could make an escape to her mother. The door handle jiggled and a face peered in.

Mousy brown hair was highlighted with blonde colors from sun exposure; she had a gray servants dress on and a fabric doll under her arm with buttons for eyes. Elise watched as the girl made sure her lopsided bun was in place before coming inside.

"Adelle!" The brunette girl started again, "You know what father said about you playing with us."

"Mademoiselle Simone, I've finished my chores." Adelle chirped, she looked to the faces, "I have a doll, too."

"Well, we were just finished playing with dolls." Simone put her doll in her seat as she got up, "We were just going to go for pastries in the kitchen."

The four other girls fluffed their hair and put their dolls on their chair, each taking a final look to Elise before following Simone, noses raised, out into the hall; leaving a distraught Adelle looking at the floor.

"I'll never be good enough for them." Adelle muttered she took a few steps towards the circle and plopped on the ground, "It took me a month to make her."

Elise pushed herself up and joined Adelle on the floor, "Good. Sometimes it's good to not be like certain people."

Adelle looked up to her, "Do you really think so?"

"I know so."

Elise smiled and looked to Adelle and realized that she had the most peculiar look about her. A round face with eyes, one that was golden and the other that was the richest blue, her eyes went from Elise to her own doll.

"I'm Adelle by the way, what's your name?"

"I'm Elise."

"Well Mademoiselle -"

"No, Adelle. Elise is just fine." Elise smiled, "What should we do? We're in a room surrounded by dolls."

Adelle shrugged for a moment and a devious smile pulled at her plump cheeks, "It would be funny if they went missing."

"It would." Elise retorted her heart began to race, "Shall we hide them?"

* * *

Adelle kept her rag doll tucked under her arm, and two fair dolls under her available arm. Elise followed with the remaining dolls bundled close to her. They made clinking sounds as they scurried down the hallway and around a corridor. Adelle turned her back to a door that swung open, leading them out into a vast garden divided up into sections of beautiful flowers. Elise looked out over the hill and saw a maze that looked like the one she had at her own home. With orchards and flowers and benches, it would be terribly easy to hide all of the dolls.

"What are you doing?" A small boy bearing a bucket of ashes came out the same door that Elise and Adelle had used.

"None of your business, Will." Adelle said, "Go sweep a chimney."

"Ferme la bouche, Adelle." Will said as he placed down a buck and wiped his brow, showing his pale skin under a thick mess of black hair. He sighed and picked up the bucket before bowing to Elise, "Pardon my language, Mademoiselle."

"It's Elise. I also could care less, really." Elise shrugged and smiled, "It was nice to meet you, Will."

Will smiled, exposing his grin that had a missing tooth and mostly adult teeth growing in. He slumped off as Elise saw Adelle running down the hill, pausing every few moments to place a doll in a shrub or under a bench.

"Come on, Elise!" Adelle giggled, "We'll be running out of time soon!"

"Hold on!" Elise giggled; she placed one doll in the dirt and looked at the one that resembled Simone. Her doll taunted her just as much as Simone did. She took one last look at her doll and tossed as far as she could into the orchard, "That's the last of them."

Adelle came scurrying up with her doll tucked at her side, "That was so much fun."

"We should go before anyone sees us." Elise took a deep breath, she was jealous of Adelle's loose bun and light dress, "Let's get back inside."

Adelle nodded and they made their way up the trail and to the back of the mansion. Pushing the doors open and walking down the hallway until they heard a cacophony of high-pitched screeches.

"SHE DID IT, MOTHER!" Simone yelled, "THEY TOOK OUR DOLLS!"

"That is absurd." Julie interjected, "Why would they do that?"

Elise looked to her mother as she wiped her face and shook her head. She gazed at Adelle and focused on her for a moment, probably stunned by her eyes just as Elise was. Her focus was pulled back as another girl started to cry.

"That is enough! Henriette!" One of the mothers barked to the host of the party before turning to Julie, "Why would Simone lie, Julie?"

"Perhaps because she's an arrogant entitled little child." Julie said confidently, looking over to all the other teary eyed children and finally over to Simone and her mother, "Just like her mother."

Gasps filled the room as Elise felt the force of her mother's hand grab hers and pull her away. Elise took one more look at Adelle before she made her way out the door and away from the scene. Julie didn't wait for the butler to open the doors, she rushed ahead and cursed under her breath as she pulled open the final door and looked out towards their carriage. The men stammered and tried to meet the pace of Julie.

"Promise me you'll never be like them, Elise." Julie's eyes locked with her daughter as she put a loose hair back into place, "I forbid it."

Elise didn't quite know what her mother meant; she didn't feel like those girls anyway, she just nodded.

"Why are we still not moving?" Julie muttered, "GO!"

Elise lurched as the carriage started to move forward leaving behind the mansion, the party, and perhaps the most fun Elise had in a very long time. Perhaps this was the one party she wished would have continued longer.

"You know," Julie sighed, "We could steer this carriage better than them."

Elise thought of herself at the reins and giggled.


	3. The Slave Girl and The Coal Boy

_Versailles_

 _July_

 _1773_

"I'm not sure I quite understand, Francois." Julie stated, she took a step towards her husband, "I would know if I saw one. How do you need further convincing?"

"A girl?" Francois chuckled, "A slavegirl, no less."

Elise took another step towards the door, playing with a loose button on her pajamas and let her ears perk up a little more.

"Well, what is the cost? She shouldn't be much. Children can't do much but sew." Francois took a couple steps to the door. Elise placed a hand over her mouth to silence her breathing.

"Cheap. Considering her worth to us… And the king." Julie continued, "The only thing that she requests is that we also purchase the coal boy."

"What? The Assassin?" Francois gasped, "That is something I'm sure the king would be thrilled to hear."

"The king doesn't have to know. I don't even the boy knows. He's only a child." Julie sighed, "Orphaned. Adelle is all he has."

"Hmm."

There was a long pause. Elise heard the scratching of a quill, the sound of coins in a bag, and the exchange of a peck on the cheek.

"We'll get them schooling. Will has the blood in him, perhaps he can be swayed to know what side is worth standing for." Francois continued, "Look for a native English speaking tutor, he'll need that training as well… Adelle can join him."

"I'll have Jean pick them up in the morning." Julie replied, "I will check on our own daughter and give her the news."

"Of course. Oh, and one more thing…" Francois started, but Elise didn't linger to hear it. She scampered back to her room, jumped back into bed, and caught her breath as quickly as she could. She closed her eyes to mimic sleep. It was a while before she heard the door squeak on its hinges.

"Elise?" Julie said, "I know you're awake, darling."

"Mama." Elise sat in bed, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No, sweet." Julie sat on the edge of the grand bed. One that Elise would have plenty of time to grow into, "I must ask you a question. How would you feel about Adelle and Will living with us?"

Elise shrugged, "They're fun."

"I know, but they wouldn't live here for fun. They would live here because we need them here. Do you understand?" Julie placed a hand on her daughters, "You couldn't have fun like you did at the party today. You would have to let them do their work, and you would do yours."

"Oh." Elise felt sadness, the loss of friends, and the weight of responsibility.

"You're not like them, Elise. You must understand that. You will… Inherit what your father and I have." Julie looked down for a moment, "Do you understand?"

"What's 'inherit' mean?" Elise put a hair behind her ear and started to rock forward and back. These serious conversations made her feel awkward.

"Well it means…" Julie took a breath and took a pin from the collar of her dress. It was red and beautiful. A Templar cross that glowed under the light of the oil lamp, "You'll have this when I move on into the next world."

Elise couldn't help it; she took it into her hand and fiddled with it. She watched the reflection bounce off once side of it and turned it over to look at the back. The pin glowed from all angles beautifully.

"Can't I just have it now?" Elise asked.

"I'm not in the next world, am I?" Julie laughed, "You can have it then."

"But that won't happen." Elise concluded as she handed the pin back to her mother.

"No." Julie retorted and she fixed the pin back onto her dress, "Not for a very long time."

* * *

Elise waited patiently with her parents. She felt her father's hand rest on her shoulder as the morning sun attempted to penetrate through the overcast that hovered over the palace. The air filled with sweet pollen and a light breeze drifted over Elise's shoulders.

"They should be here any moment." Francois said as he checked his pocket watch.

Elise rocked back and forth on her heels but stopped as soon as she heard the carriage approaching, Jean halting the carriage and opening the door. Adelle stepped out first. Unlike the first time Elise saw her, she was clean and her hair was pulled back into a braid. She carried her cloth doll under her arm and a small pack hung from her shoulders. She waved at Elise and started up towards her.

Behind her was Will, he lingered though, adjusting his pack and looking at the palace in awe before slowly walking up to them. He also was clean; his skin was incredibly pale, except for the light freckles that were littered on his nose and cheeks.

"Will. Adelle." Francois looked at Adelle longer than he looked at Will. He cleared his throat and eyed Julie for a moment, "Thank you for being a part of our household."

Adelle played with the tail of her braid that rested over her shoulder. She looked from Julie to Francois. Her mismatch eyes were filled with worry. Elise wanted to assure her, but her mother took a breath and continued the conversation.

"You'll both have a tutor and your own quarters. I hope you can respect that."

Will and Adelle exchanged glances, but remained silent.

"Elise why don't you show them where they're staying?" Francois squeezed Elise's shoulder and gave her an eager smile, "Your mother and I have some planning to do."

"Of course, father." Elise said and started into the palace with Will and Adelle at her heels, "The kitchen is over there and the servants all stay down there."

"Shall we go downstairs then?" Will peeped, "Isn't that where we're going?"

"The servant's quarters?" Elise retorted, "No. We're going to the guest area."

It took a moment for Will and Adelle to continue walking. Adelle took Will's hand and followed Elise the rest of the way. They muttered to one another, but Elise couldn't make out the words. They awed at the mirrored halls and the paintings that hung.

"Doesn't the queen live here?" Adelle asked.

"Yes." Elise turned down a corridor, "Her and the King are here, but I don't see them much."

She led them down the hall where her mother had showed her earlier that morning. She pointed stopped and looked at the rooms to make sure they were the right ones. One to the left and the other to the right, the windows were opened and small beds were pushed to the corner of each, a bookshelf next to the window, and a fireplace just across the beds that were filled with kindling for the next cold night.

"Adelle you go in here," Elise gestured to the other room, "Will you're in this one."

Will eagerly went into his room, stopping for a moment and dropped his bag. He went over to the bed and ran his hand down the bed and poked his head out the window. He took a moment to pinch himself.

"What are you doing?" Elise asked.

"Seeing if I'm dreaming." Will chuckled.

Elise turned to Adelle as she climbed onto the bed. She dropped her satchel on the bed and speckles of tears filled her eyes. Her hands raised up to wipe them away. Elise joined her and couldn't understand why she was crying.

"Are you alright? Do you not like it?" Elise asked.

"No! I love it!" Adelle smiled. It reminded Elise of the girl she gave her doll to, "I have never been showed such kindness."

Elise shrugged, "Well, we'll have school in the fall when Father finds a tutor."

"What do we do in the meantime then?" Will asked as he pushed more dark hair from crowding his blue eyes, "Is there someone we report to?"

"No." Elise looked between them as they exchanged glances.

"What do we do then?" Adelle asked.

"I think Will should get a haircut." Elise chuckled as she watched Will fix his stubborn hair, "But I'll be in my room. You can ask Claude where that is. He's the one who opened the door for us."

Elise climbed down from the bed and started for her room she turned back to see that Will and Adelle had met in the middle of the hall and were hugging each other in a way that made her think of how her parents held her when she had a bad dream.


	4. Father and Son

_Versailles, France_

 _July_

 _1773_

Arno stirred to the sound of glass breaking. He pushed the blankets off of him and sat up in bed to hear muffled shouting. The pale moonlight filled the room with a silver glow as he wiggled his feet into slippers, sliding through his bedroom door and down the vast hall that led to his own parent's room.

"I don't want to hear it, Charles! The shite you've given me about this… I've had enough!" Marie boomed, "When I got pregnant you said you would change."

"Marie, don't wake Arno, please -"

"You and this lifestyle of yours..."

"It's not a lifestyle, it's my promise."

"I'm married to a murderer!" Marie stopped to drink wine straight from the bottle, "To make it worse you've poisoned my own son against me!"

Arno peaked around the corner to see the shards of a broken wine glass glisten in the candlelight. He turned a bit further to see his father looming over his mother. Holding her by her shoulders to steady her balance. Her golden hair fell from her bun to her shoulders as she tried to break free of his grip.

"I've poisoned him? Ha, no Marie, you've done that all on your own."

As Marie broke free Arno watched his mother as she struck Charles across the face, pushing his profile in Arno's direction. He watched his father as he absorbed the pain. Arno gasped as his mother slapped him again, this time leaving a cut on his father's bottom lip. Arno's gaze met his father's as Charles licked away the blood. His face instantly softened.

"Arno." Charles sighed, "Go to bed."

"No, Arno!" Marie's head whipped over, "You see your father? You know he's a bad man don't you?"

Arno's stomach turned, he looked between his parents and couldn't speak. He felt as though a bunch of autumn leaves had filled his mouth. He bit his lip as the room distorted with his tears. Marie threw the wine bottle across the room, aiming for Charles, but he dodged it swiftly, turning away and going to Arno.

"Come on, son." Charles extended his arms out. Arno didn't hesitate, he scurried into his father's arms as he effortlessly lifted him and held him tightly, "You alright? Mother's not feeling well."

Arno let the trail of hot tears sink into his father's shirt. He closed his eyes to the scene before him and he locked his arms around his father's neck; Charles stood tall and firm as if he were an oak tree.

"Not feeling well?" Marie slurred once more, "Try coping with the fact that you've killed!"

"I've done what I had to do to protect my family! You're a sick woman, Marie!" Charles' voice reverberated off the walls. Arno sensed his father take steps out the door and back to his room. He felt his father's warm hand rub his back soothingly.

"I'm leaving!" Marie's distant cry continued, "I'm leaving tonight, Charles!"

Charles closed the door behind him as he went over to Arno's bed and set him back down in the lush covers. He wiped the blood away from his lip once more before removing the slippers from Arno's feet and pulling the blankets over him.

"You know I love you, Arno." Charles said, "You know that I would do anything to protect you and your mother, don't you?"

Arno rubbed away his tears and nodded, "Why is mother leaving?"

"She's not leaving." Charles fluffed the pillow behind Arno, it urged him to lie upon it, "She's… Going to see Grandmother, like we did last year for Christmas. Remember that?"

Arno nodded as he rested his head on the pillow, "Why is she mad then?"

"She's going by herself." Charles took his son's hand as the sound of the front door slammed and the home became suddenly silent. Arno saw tears form in his father's eyes before Charles raised his other hand to cover them, "She's upset because you can't come with her."

"Why can't I come? Father, what's wrong? We can meet her there." Arno reasoned.

"You know you have lessons coming up. You can't miss that." Charles cleared his throat, "Your mother will return."

"When?"

For a moment the eerie silence filled the room again. Charles released Arno's hand and took a deep shaky breath, "Goodnight, son."

"Father?"

"It's time for bed," Charles' voice broke, "I'll see you in the morning, son." Arno watched Charles move from the bed to the door and wait for a moment. His hand rested on the doorknob before making a swift exit, "I'm sorry."


	5. Grandmaster de la Serre

_Versailles, France_

 _July_

 _1773_

Arno sat quietly in a chair next to the fireplace as Charles adjusted his jacket over his broad shoulders. Arno watched him as he tied his hair back in a long mirror and curiously squinted as his father grabbed a gauntlet from a locked box. Arno only saw a glimmer of silver before it was hid under his father's sleeve.

"You ready, my boy?" Charles asked before turning around.

Arno pushed himself from the chair and mimicked his father and adjusted his coat. Arno felt pleased as Charles' face filled with pride. He went to his son and bent down on one knee to button Arno's jacket.

"Look at you." Charles beamed, "Looking quite dashing if I do say so myself."

Arno giggled to himself and tried to stand tall to the firm pat on the shoulder his father gave him, "Are we leaving now?"

Arno grasped his father's hand that was slick with a leather glove, "Make me a promise, Arno."

Arno looked up to his father, "Of course, father."

"We may not look like these people, but don't think we're any less because we don't look like them." Charles released Arno's hand as they stepped out into a summer's rain and locked the front door to their home, "But don't get the idea that we are better than them either."

"Who are we seeing?" Arno questioned, trying to get a look at his father before he pulled a hood over his head, "Who is so important?"

"His name is Grandmaster de la Serre, and he is very important." Charles continued, "We must be on our best behavior. One doesn't get in trouble with this kind of man."

Arno reached for his father's left hand and hoped he'd get a glimpse of the gauntlet he'd saw his father put on earlier. Instead Charles pulled away at his touch.

"Hold on, son." Charles stepped around Arno, offering his other hand, "You stay on my right side."

* * *

Arno wasn't tired when they arrived to the chateau despite the walk. The summer rain subdued to a sprinkle as Charles stopped for a moment before knocking on the door. Charles cleared his throat, adjusted his coat, and pulled out his golden pocket watch. With a quick clasp he put it away and looked to Arno and took down his hood.

"You just listen." Charles whispered, "Remember it's rude to stare, son."

Arno nodded and grabbed his father's hand. Arno looked at the exquisite door-knocker that rested quietly on the white door. He waited for his father to grab the brass ring and to knock, but instead, the door opened itself. A man dressed in black cracked the door and looked at Arno and then to Charles.

"Name?" The man croaked.

"I'm meeting Grandmaster -"

"Name." The man stated a little louder.

Charles looked around before clearing his throat and leaning closer to the door, "Charles Dorian."

"Hm?" The man nodded to Arno. His heart skipped a beat and he took a step behind his father.

"You'll be damned if you get his name out of me, stranger." Charles' words dripped with malevolence.

Arno heard the door squeak open and the sounds of a party intensify. Arno heard men laughing and in deep conversation. The occasional clink of a wine glass, but when Arno entered the home, he didn't expect the faces he would see. He took a deep breath as his eyes scanned the men dressed in black around him. Some with red hoods or red knife hilts, other's had scars slashed across their faces, another a missing eye. Arno looked to his feet and remembered what his father said. He tuned out the noise and listened to his father.

"This isn't popular among us," Charles confessed, "I was pleased to hear that I could collaborate with someone who agreed with me."

"Grandmaster de la Serre is an open minded man." The doorman said and his black cloak flowed behind him as he lead them down a corridor to an archway, "He's expecting you."

Charles nodded to the man and kept a tighter grip on Arno's hand and walked into the silent study. Charles could hear the scratching of a quill and the quiet moan of the storm ending outside. Grandmaster de la Serre sat at the desk quietly, running a hand over his stubble before setting down the quill and looking to his guests.

"Charles?"

"Grandmaster -"

"Please, call me Francois." Francois rose from the desk and made his way over to greet Charles, he looked down to Arno and a smile grew on his face, "Oh, bonjour, monsieur. What's your name?"

"Arno." Arno peeped he looked to his father and back to Francois, "I'm five years old."

Charles let out a laugh, "That's right, my boy."

"Such fun… Children." Francoise looked back to Charles, "I have one myself, a daughter. Just his age."

Charles blinked, "I wouldn't have brought - I didn't trust him alone."

"It's no problem." Francois continued, "He's more than welcome."

Arno felt his father's hand release his. Arno took his freed hand and linked it with his other behind his back.

"Now back to business," Charles sighed, "I know… It's not what others are thinking."

"A treaty between Templars and Assassins?" Francois chuckled, "I'm not sure how you came to this idea… Ending centuries of violence."

"We're coming to the ending of an era. You know this Francois." Charles breathed, "A revolution."

Francois nodded, "That is your reasoning behind this? Since the times have changed so should we? Our fundamental differences aren't something that we can change, Charles. We haven't for centuries."

"Why not? Why can't we meet somewhere and stand together?" Charles continued.

"Are you saying this because the Assassin's are now weak?" Francois said softly, "Are you planning to spy on our cause?"

"No… This is about Shay Cormac."

"The Rogue Assassin… Don't think I haven't heard of him." Francois looked sternly at the floor.

"One of our strongest." Charles took a moment, "I want to know that the future of both of our causes is rightfully represented. Strong… Between order and freedom."

Francois nodded, "Moderation. Leading within reason. I like your proposition, Dorian. I do; but what's made you come to this conclusion?"

Arno was surprised when his father looked at him. He let out a sheepish smile only because he wasn't sure if he should. Francois also looked to him and Arno felt his cheeks redden as the men singled him out.

"Fair enough." Francois nodded.

"He's all I have." Charles continued, "I want to know that he's in a world that has promise, not war."

"I want the same for my family." Francois smiled, "It's why I welcomed you here in the first place."

"We'll be in touch?" Charles took Arno's hand as he adjusted his hood for departure.

"We certainly will, Charles." Francois nodded, "A treaty might be what this Order and this Creed needs."


	6. Lessons

_Versailles, France_

 _December_

 _1773_

Elise was looking at picture books while the servants around her prepared the space for guests. She turned another page as a servant brought in a plate of pastries, cheese, and placed a bottle of wine on the wooden table.

"Do we have glasses?" Julie asked as she walked into the room and waved her hands, "Allez, allez!"

The servants dispersed quickly, a new male servant brought in the crystal glasses and lined them up; another female helped him as she poured water into the glasses. She nodded to him as he wiped his brow. He dismissed himself with the other servants. Now the room looked complete. Elise looked out the window at the winter sun and the icicles that hung from the window.

"Elise, my sweet." Julie made her way over to her daughter, "Father and I have a meeting, you must read in your room at the moment."

"Who's coming?" Elise asked, "I want to stay out here by the fire."

"I understand," Julie smiled, "I'll have Ruth light the fire in your room, alright?"

Elise nodded and her mother led the way to her room. She continued to walk until Ruth appeared from the servant quarters, adjusting her new apron for the day's work.

"Ruth," Julie said, "We are having guests, do you mind tending to the fire in Elise's room?"

"Yes, Madame," Ruth nodded, "Right away… What are we reading, Elise?"

Elise shrugged, "I don't know, I'm looking at the drawings."

"Well let's have a read then." Ruth smiled, "Come on, sweet."

Elise appreciated Ruth for her ability to read. She let go of her mother's hand and followed Ruth. She handed the book to her as they started towards her bedroom. Her room was chilled with the December cold. Ruth rubbed her hands together as she lit the fire and the cracking of it soon became a roar.

"Come on then," Ruth said as she took a seat, "Let's read this story."

It didn't take long for Ruth to fall asleep in the chair as the fired burned. Elise set down her stuffed bear and looked about the room. She heard the grand doors open and couldn't help herself. Curiosity bloomed within her and she started down the halls to where her mother and father were.

"Charles Dorian," Julie said, "It's a pleasure to finally meet the man that has verified my husband's epiphany."

"I could say the same to him." Charles retorted, "Thank you again for your hospitality."

"Of course!" Francois laughed, "It's good to see you, too. Arno."

Elise looked around the corner to see her family and the guests move down the hallway. She scurried behind them and stopped once they entered the guests' dining room. She saw a tall man with hair the color of syrup. He had a son that looked very similar to him.

"Charles, please help yourself," Julie said as she went for a glass of water. She got down on one knee and handed the glass to boy, "Arno, you said you were thirsty?"

Arno took the glass with both hands and finished the drink. Elise was jealous. Why did Arno get to be here and not her? She almost took a step in but Charles turned toward her, Elise pressed her back to the wall and hoped she wasn't caught.

"Charles?" Francois asked, "Is everything alright?"

"Pardon me," Charles said, "I thought I heard someone."

"Oh! You have nothing to worry about." Julie said, "You are our only guests today."

"It's not me I'm worried about." Charles looked down to Arno, "Want some cheese, son?"

"Elise!" Ruth whispered, "What are you doing? You're not supposed to be here. Come now, we can play outside if you would like."

"Can I play with Adelle?" Elise asked as Ruth grabbed her hand and pulled her away, "Please? It's so dull!"

"If you must." Ruth said, "You best be quiet though or we'll both get into trouble."

Elise nodded and scurried ahead of Ruth and down to where she saw both Adelle and Will sitting on the floor, looking at books and penciling words in them.

"What are you doing?" Elise asked as she joined them on the floor.

"Lessons." Will sighed as he itched his hair that was cut a little too short for his liking, "What are you up to."

"Nothing." Elise sighed, "I don't know when I'll get lessons… We have guests upstairs."

"Who?" Adelle asked as she set down her book.

"Some man named Charles and his son." Elise shrugged again. She started to rock in her place as Will gave her a penetrating stare.

"Charles? What's his last name?"

"Um…" Elise bit her lip.

"Dorian?" Will urged her.

"Yes! That's him. He has a son, too." Elise said, "But he got to stay with them and I don't think that's fair at all."

"Huh," Will looked back down and took his book onto his lap again. His mind was in another place but Elise didn't know why.

* * *

That night, Elise found herself dosing off on the couch in her parent's room. It was soft and warm next to the fire. Her eyes glanced over to the adjacent window and watched the snow dance from the sky. She closed her eyes but her ears perked to the sound of her father's voice.

"He's a good man." Francois said, "He values his son the most and wants peace."

"How do we tell the others?" Julie said softly, "How can we be sure they won't turn on us after hearing this news?"

"We don't have to tell them now, Julie." Francois assured, "We can wait."

"We will wait." Julie concluded, "I will not have Elise unprotected while we start this… Revolution."

"Let her start her lessons then. Let her be trained so she can protect herself."

"Five years old is a bit premature." Julie chuckled, "I didn't start mine until I was eight."

"We'll start next year." Francois stated. Elise opened her eyes and waited for her mother to respond. It was quiet for a while before she heard her mother sigh.

"I'll write a letter then." Julie said softly, "She will start when she's six and that will be the end of it… Her childhood is over."

"This is not her choice, Julie." Francois concluded, "When we had her we knew this would be her fate."

"I fear for her safety."

"As do I." Francois continued, "But she will fend for herself, one day she will be a grandmaster. The best one the Order has seen yet because she will lead alongside the Assassin's."

"Oh, don't even say that out loud!" Julie cursed, "Not… Ever. It's not safe."

Elise turned and closed her eyes she didn't know what she heard but she knew that the pit in her stomach developed because of it.


	7. Mr Weatherall

Paris, France

February

1174

The sun was bright, but there was still nothing but frozen ice that covered the streets. The cold kept the citizens in bars and alleyways. The carriage soon came to a stop at the edge of the city once they pulled into the tall gates of a beautiful villa. More servants came out of the main doors. It was nothing to Versailles, but among the other villas Élise saw, it was still the grandest.

"Perfect," Julie muttered, "This will be our home for the time, Élise. This is where you'll learn your lessons."

"What of Father?" Élise questioned as the cold poured in as a servant offered his hand for Julie to take.

"Father will join us once it's warm. Come now, sweet."

Élise followed into the chateau and was relieved to be out of the cold. The room was filled with furniture covered in fine embroidery. She watched a young servant place another piece of wood into the fireplace and curtseyed as she entered with her mother.

"It's beautiful." Élise whispered as she looked to the portraits on the wall. One of her mother gracefully resting in a lounge chaise, another with a swollen belly standing tall next to her father, and lastly one final portrait above the fireplace with her father standing next to her mother as she sat with an infant Élise propped on her lap.

"Get settled, Élise." Julie said as she patted her back, "We are meeting your teacher tonight."

* * *

It was pitch black before Julie knocked on the door. Élise was startled, nerves chewed on her insides. Élise quickly grabbed her cloak and muff before meeting her mother, to her surprise, her mother wore gloves that looked like they were made for a man. She put one hand on her daughter's shoulder and they went down the stairs and out into the back of the villa, where the vast ground glowed with frozen specks of fresh snow.

Élise listened to the crunch of snow under her feet and stopped when Julie did. There was nothing but silence; it was alarming how still the night was. Élise looked over her shoulder at the villa's windows blinked at them from afar. It's protection now far from reach.

"Do not be alarmed if you see a gentleman in the shadows." Julie whispered as she bent a little closer to her daughter. Élise couldn't help it; her hand wiggled from her muff and grabbed her mother's hand. Julie giggled, "Our presence here is no coincidence."

The frost conferred stillness on the world. In the wood, the trees were even quieter and offered an absolute tranquility as they took a narrow path into the woods. The trees began to thin as Julie led Élise into one final courtyard. Somehow still a part of the villa property. It was then they waited.

"Mr. Weatherall likes to play game. He might like to surprise us, and one should always be aware of what surprises lay in store. We take into account our surroundings and cast our expectations accordingly. Do you see tracks?"

The snow surrounding them was untouched, "No, Mama."

"Good. Then we can be sure of our radius. Now, where might a man hide in such conditions?"

"Behind a tree?"

"Good, good – but what about here?" Julie indicated overhead as Élise craned her head to gaze into the canopy of branches above with the frost twinkling in shards of the moonlight.

"Observe everywhere, always." Julie stated firmly, but a smile pulled at her lips, "Use your eyes to see, don't incline your head if at all possible. Don't show to others where your attention is directed. In life you will have opponents, and those opponents will attempt to read you for clues as to your intentions. Maintain your advantage by making them guess."

"Will our visitor be high in a tree, Mama?"

A chuckle escaped Julie, "No. As a matter of fact, I have sent him. Do you see him Élise?"

Élise scanned the area once more, letting out a defeated sigh, "No, Mama."

"Show yourself, Freddie." Julie called, and a few yards ahead of Élise a gray-bearded man stepped from behind a tree, swept his tricorn from his head and gave an exaggerated bow. Élise smiled at this man, clearly not one of the arrogant men of Versailles. He was soft, but serious.

"You cast a shadow, Freddie." Julie stated as he stepped forward, he took Julie's hand and kissed it. Then taking Élise's and did the same, followed by another bow.

"The shadow?" he said, and his voice was rough, uncultured. The voice of men that traveled on the seas, "Oh, bloody hell, I might be losing my touch."

"I hope not, Freddie." Julie laughed, "Élise, meet Mr. Weatherall, an Englishman… An associate of mine. Freddie, my daughter, Élise."

Élise scanned Mr. Weatherall, dressed in black he looked like a raven.

"Charmed, Mademoiselle," he rasped.

"Mr. Weatherall is our confidant and protector, Élise. A man to whom you may always turn when in need of help." Julie said sternly and locked eyes with her daughter as if Freddie didn't stand before them."

Élise felt started another pang of anxiety, "But what about Father?"

"Fauther loves us both dearly, and would gladly give his life for us, but men as important as your father need shielding from their domestic responsibilities. This is why we have Mr. Weatherall, Élise…" Julie paused, "Your Father need not be troubled by those matters concerning his womenfolk. Your Father need not to be troubled, Élise, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mama." Élise nodded.

"I am here to serve, mademoiselle." Mr. Weatherall said to Élise, making his presence once known again.

"Thank you, monsieur." Élise curtsied.

"Can we talk, Julie?" the protector said as he replaced his tricorn and indicated that they may walk back to the villa.

Élise walked a few steps behind and kicked bits of snow as her mother and Freddie discussed "Grand Masters," and the King… Then before she knew it she was back at her new home.

"Élise, why don't you and Mr. Weatherall go over your first lesson?" Julie asked as they settled in the living area, "Then you can go to sleep."

Élise nodded, it wasn't as though she had much of a choice.

"It's just up the steps, Freddie. The room across from mine."

Élise followed and joined Mr. Weatherall in her room. A fire was lit and warmed the area. Several oil lams produced enough light to make it look as if it were daytime. Mr. Weatherall went to the wooden desk just at the corner of the room. A window just above it looked out to the vast entrance of the villa, it reminded Élise of how late it was.

"Élise," Mr. Weatherall started, he pulled the desk chair out for her to sit on and scooted her closer to the desk, "I want you to draw me a picture, of whatever you like." Mr. Weatherall pulled open a drawer and inside was a small book with blank pages, and a set of pencils.

"Is this a lesson?" Élise asked as she looked to the pencils, "What should I draw?"

"How about… An apple." Mr. Weatherall concluded, he knelt down by the desk and watched Élise closely, "Yes. This is a lesson."

Élise bit her lip. She raised her hand and took the pencil and started to draw. The pencil felt foreign in her hand, she took a breath and switched hands.

"Why did you do that? Why did you switch hands?"

"Because they both want to draw." Élise smiled, but Mr. Weatherall's faced gleamed, overly proud, overly excited…

"Excellent. Then you shall use both of your hands."

* * *

Versailles, France

April

1174

Ruth pulled at Élise's hair, and tamed the natural wave it possessed with countless pins. Ever since she had turned six, Élise was always meeting new people, and was always glued to her mother's side. She had to take a break from her lessons to just see because of it. Instead of feeling the dull pain of her hair being pulled back, Élise watched her mother as she adjusted her cloak to protect herself from the spring's chill. She adjusted the pins in her hair before another maid came in with Julie's fur muff.

"Is it there?" Julie asked as she turned swiftly, taking the fur muff and pulling from it a sharp dagger hidden within it. She tucked her hands inside the muff and perfectly concealed her dagger, "Is she ready, Ruth? The Carolls aren't patient people."

Élise looked to her mother; she stood firm, and confident. Ruth handed Élise her own muff to shield the chill from her small hands and buttoned her cloak.

"Stay close, my sweet." Julie said as they started out the door and down to the main doors.

Élise looked into the rooms they passed out of habit. Looking as servants worked silently, she saw the-soon-to-be Queen Antoinette being dressed by several handmaidens, however she cursed silently to herself. Élise couldn't help but stare, as Antoinette stood frozen and placed on hand on her chest, she looked to Élise as if she knew she was being stared at. Élise was surprised. She thought that surely a month from her coronation she would be happy, but the terror in her eyes said something else. For one reason or another, Marie Antoinette was petrified.

The Carols had traveled from London. Both mother and daughter had matching snowy hair that glistened in the sun. They too hid their hands in muffs and for a moment Élise wondered Madame Caroll hid a knife in her muff as her mother had. Madame Carol also brought her daughter. Élise watched her daughter as she waited just at the edge of the vast courtyard. She giggled a little too loudly at Will as he rocked on his heels. He was taller than her but they were the same in age, now both ten. Madame Carol smiled as she watched them approach, she did not pay a lick of attention to her young daughter.

"Mama, where's Father?" Élise whispered as they approached their guests.

"He's speaking to Mr. Carroll. We will entertain his family why they are here."

"Why do you have a knife in your muff?" Élise asked one final question before she would be forced to talk to Madame Caroll's daughter.

Julie froze, "It helps my muff keep its shape. Go, daughter."

Élise turned and started towards Will as he smiled and exposed his gleaming adult teeth. Élise's tongue made its way to the gap in her smile… Her recent tooth loss happened during lessons with Mr. Weatherall; a lesson that included swords and she wasn't allowed to discuss it.

"Élise!" Will noticed, "It's good to see you. How are lessons?"

"Fine." Élise sighed she looked to the white haired girl that seemed angered by Élise's presence. "I'm Élise."

"May." Said the girl as she adjusted one piece of hair that was falling by her porcelain neck.

"May, darling!" Madame Caroll called from across the courtyard, "Come with me. Let that boy to his business."

Will nodded, "Mademoiselle Caroll."

May blushed before heading over to her mother.

"I'll talk to you later, Élise." Will waved as he took a bucket of ash and headed on his way.

"How old are you, smell-bag?" May asked as she looked down on Élise."

"Don't call me smell-bag." Élise retorted primly.

"Sorry, smell-bag, but tell me again how old you are."

"I'm six." Élise stated.

May chortled, "Well, I'm ten."

"I know you're ten." Élise hissed.

"Just so you don't forget." May said, letting out another prideful laugh.

Élise bit her tongue and pictured what May would look like with her face covered with gravel, her perfect angelic hair askew and stained with mud. The bigger they are, the harder they fall... Mr. Weatherall once told her during a lesson.

"Obviously we have concerns with the direction your Order appears to want to take." Madame Caroll said, catching Élise's attention.

"You have concerns." Julie stated.

"Indeed. Concerns about the intentions of your husband's associates… And as we both know, it is our duty to ensure our husbands do the right thing. Perhaps, if you don't mind me saying, your husband is giving certain factions leave to dictate his policies?"

"Indeed. There are high-ranking members who favor, shall we say, more extreme measures regarding the changing of the old order -"

"This concerns us in England." Madame Caroll said bluntly.

Julie chortled, "Of course it does. In England you refuse to accept change of any kind."

"Not at all," Madame Carroll bridled, "Your regarding of our national character lacks subtlety. But I'm beginning to get a feel for where your own loyalties lie, Madame del la Serre. You yourself are petitioning for change?"

"If change is for the better."

"Then do I need to report that your loyalties lie with your husband's advisers? Has my errand been in vain?"

"Not quite, Madame." Julie continued, "How comforting it is to know that I enjoy the support of my English colleagues in opposing drastic measures. But I cannot claim to share your ultimate goal. While it's true that my husband believes in God-appointed monarchy, indeed, that his ideals for the future encompass no change at all. I myself tread a middle line. A third way, if you like. Perhaps it won't surprise you to learn that I consider my belief to be more moderate of the three."

They walked in silence. Élise now noticed that May was listening to the conversation as well.

"I'm sorry if you don't feel our goals are aligned, Madame Carroll. My apologies if that makes me a somewhat unreliable confidante." Julie said and gently filled the silence.

Madame Caroll nodded, "I see. Well, if I were you, madame de la Serre, I would use my influence with both sides in order to propose your middle line…"

"On that issue I shouldn't like to say but be assumed your journey has not been in vain. My respect for you and your branch of the Order remains a steadfast as I hope it does in return. From me you can rely on two things. Firstly that I will abide by my own principles, and secondly that I will not allow my husband to be swayed by his advisers."

"Then you have given me what I want."

"Very good. It is some consolation, I hope."

"Have your parents told you of your destiny?" May looked down again at Élise.

"No…" Élise craned her head up, "What do you mean by 'destiny'?"

May covered her mouth as if she had said too much, "They will do, perhaps when you turn ten years old. Just as they did me. How old are you, by the way?"

"I'm six."

"Well, perhaps they will tell you when you are ten, as they did me."


	8. Sexton

_Versailles, France_

 _January_

 _1776_

Arno had just finished "The Castle of Otranto," for the second time. This time truly enjoying it since the words he had previously stumbled over now seemed fluent to him.

"You need a candle, son." Charles stated, entering his room with an oil lamp, "No point in reading in the dark."

The oil lamp cast the room in radiant light. It was a sun in the vast room and was the only source of light from what Arno could see. He looked to his father as he set the lamp on the small table adjacent to the leather chair where Arno was sitting. Charles adjusted his gloves to accommodate the winter chill and adjusting a scarf around his neck before finally lifting his hood over his head.

"Another night out, Father? Do graveyards need to be tended at night?" Arno asked, "Why do they work you like this?"

"Because I'm the best… And when I work the yard at night, I can get more money so we can have those apple pies you love so much." Charles chuckled, "Do I need to explain the rules about when I'm out at night?"

"No…" Arno sighed.

"What are the rules?"

"Keep one lamp lit upstairs only, blow it out when I go to bed, don't answer the door, and if anyone comes in use the pistol in the attic."

"Good. Give me a hug." Charles got down onto one knee and opened his arms for Arno to fall into.

"Father, I don't want to be alone." Arno muttered, "I wish mother was here."

"I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise."

"Where's mother?"

Charles pulled from their hug to look into his son's eyes. They lacked something. He felt as though he was looking into his own. They were aged in a way… They had seen more than any child should have. The innocence that usually gleamed in the eyes of a child was not in his son's.

"I'm just forgetting her." Arno stumbled on his words, "I know she's not coming back."

"When I get home we can talk about mother, alright?"

Arno's stomach flipped inside of him. He didn't know if it was from curiosity or sadness. He just hugged his father once again before bolting the door behind him and making his way back into his bed. Longing for the moment of his father's return.

* * *

 _Screech._

Arno tossed in his bed. Blinking to focus his eyes to realize he had fallen asleep with the lamp on. It was no matter though he knew his father was home. He wiggled out of the feather blankets and took the lamp in his hand before pulling open the door to hear the familiar sounds of boots ascending the stairs.

"Father?" Arno called out, "Father, you're home early. Can we talk about Mother now?"

Arno went to the stairs, and held the lamp higher to see that his father wasn't home. It was a tall man, bleeding from his cheek as if he were slammed against a wall… Then a second man just behind him with a cut down his face as if someone tried to cut it in half.

"You're Arno," the first man bellowed, taking steps towards him, "I have someone who wants to meet you."

"Where's my father? Who are you?" Arno's arm began to shake.

"Your father ain't here. He can't save you." The second man stated.

His tone set off fear in Arno. He dropped the lamp on the ground with a solid thud and ran from where he was headed. He focused on the turns before him, listening behind to the strides that the men were making as the followed him. Arno ran up the stairs, around the corner, up one last set of stairs and finally to the attic. In the dark he could see the gleam of the pistol. Just where Charles had always had it, fully loaded, ready to be fired.

"COME HERE, BOY!"

Arno felt giant hands wrap around his ankle, falling to the ground the pistol fell from his hands, and Arno felt them pull him from the attic door and down the stairs. Several hard thuds knocked his insides around.

"WE NEED HIM ALIVE!"

With that Arno struggled he let out a scream that burned his throat. The last thing Arno remembered was his voice giving out and a hard hit to the head.

* * *

Arno woke to the cold and to his arms tied so tightly to his back that his chest ached. The world around him was dark and he realized that there was a bag over his head. He remained still, he felt dizzy, and that he was going to be ill if he moved too quickly.

"Shay will get a kick out of this." The first man said, his voice gravely, "Keep him from doubting us again."

"Yes… Assuming his father doesn't find us first."

Arno began to sit a little straighter in the cold chair. He heard the creaking of an old building surrounding him and the neighing of a horse. It didn't take him long to recognize the smell. They were in an old barn; Arno coughed on the stale air.

"OH," one man started, "Our little prince is awake."

Just as quickly as he spoke, there was an alarming sound. It made Arno's blood run cold. It was the sound of choking, gagging, and the splitting sound of bones. His breaths came out in little puffs as steps approached him. Arno thought his head would come off with the bag at the velocity it was taken off of him.

"Look Arno, look up," The man said, his face still oozing from his cheek, "Look what your dad did to my friend."

Arno looked up, and his breath caught in his throat. His father, letting the body of the second man fall to his feet, and sheathing a knife back to his waist. His father had just killed a man. Now coming towards him.

"Close your eyes, son." Charles asked, quietly, "You don't need to see this."

Arno held his eyes closed, as tightly as he could, feeling the heat of tears rise in him. He could feel the men fighting next to him. Blows being exchanged with thuds and grunts of frustration, then finally a shriek that didn't sound human. Arno opened his eyes before him.

There his father was, on top of him with his hands around his neck. With an effortless flick of his wrist, Arno saw a knife come from Charles' gauntlet and his father stab the man into the jugular. When he pulled back the knife a river poured from his neck. The man gagged from it and spat out bits of blood before finally going still.

"You killed them." Arno said.

"Son." Charles stood from the scene and went to Arno, "They would have killed you."

Arno couldn't say anything. His eyes were locked with the dead eyes of the second man. Arno could feel the ropes behind him being loosened and finally his father came back in front of him and blocked the view of the body.

"There is something bad happening here." Charles took Arno's shoulders, "Do you hear me?"

Arno's eyes scanned his fathers face and the specks of scarlet that littered it like freckles.

"Arno," Charles pulled him from the chair, "We have to go, son. They're after us, we have to go."

Arno nodded feeling weak in the knees from the scent of blood. He felt his father pull at his hand and to the exit of the barn, Arno couldn't help it, he looked back one more time at the scene he was leaving, and his knees didn't feel so weak after the long look.

"You're not a sexton, are you?" Arno confirmed before looking to his father.

"No, Arno. I'm not."


	9. Mother

_Paris, France_

 _January_

 _1776_

Oil lamps lit the street as civilians took advantage of late night festivities. Arno was pulled through groups of them. Charles' hand wrapped around his wrist like the rope and secured him to his side. Arno pushed plush skirts out of his way and rolled his body around the legs of adults around him. He felt as if he were running through velvet curtains.

"Why aren't we going home?" Arno demanded, "Father, what's happening?"

"We can't go home." Charles stood still for a moment and knelt down to look Arno in the eyes, "We can't go home because those men are after us."

"Why? Why did you kill them, Father?"

Charles raised his hand over Arno's mouth and silenced any further questions. Charles took a shaky breath before removing his hand and placing one finger over his lips to signal Arno to be quiet.

"I will explain everything, but we must go." Charles stood up stoically without another word and continued to drag Arno alongside with him.

It could have been miles, blocks, or they could have been walking in circles. Arno had no sense of where his father was taking him. Crowds would thin out but soon would fill the streets again. Sounds of breaking glasses made Arno's heart race as a reminder of old memories he had of his parent's rows.

"We're here, son." Charles finally said as he pulled down his hood he took Arno up the small steps to a grand door. Charles took hold of the grand gold knocker and banged it rhythmically three times.

The door silently opened and a pair of steel gray eyes scanned them both, "Name?"

"Charles Dorian, with son."

The door opened a fraction more, "Service?"

"Protection."

"Enter."

The door opened just enough for Charles and Arno to come in. There were women inside. All dressed in provocative clothing. There were men there as well, all silent with Arno's entrance. The men held large swords and axes. Arno felt sick… _Everyone… Killers…_

"Son?" Charles looked to Arno and pulled at his hand to get his attention, "Don't stare."

"I feel unwell." Arno confessed, "Can we go home?"

The room fell silent, footsteps approached of a large woman rubbing her hands with a dirty cloth, "Charles!"

"Millie," Charles took the large woman into his arms, "It's good to see you."

"I thought we'd heard the last o' ye!" Millie muttered with a Scottish accent, "This your boy?"

"Yes, Arno… Arno this is Millie, she was a friend of mine and your mother's."

Millie bent over, exposed her full bosom, and she locked eyes with Arno. A warm brown surrounded by rays of laugh lines. Arno wanted to smile, but his stomach turned inside of him.

"It's nice to meet you, Arno. Kitchen's closed, but does look like you could use some ginger tea, I'd say." Millie winked.

"Templars are after us, I believe betrayal is upon us." Charles continued, "Home is not an option for us, I'm afraid."

"You musn't worry." Millie rested a plump hand on Charles' shoulder, "Ye always be safe here… Best you go upstairs. I know Sabine be wantin' to see you."

"Oh," Charles blushed, "Yes, I suppose I'll make my way upstairs."

It was up more stares. Arno found himself swearing under his breath as they made it to the top floor of the facility, down to the very last door of the hallway, and then a quiet knock at the door. For the first time that evening, Charles released Arno's hand and adjusted his jacket.

"How do I look?" Charles asked.

Arno scanned his father; his face had specs of blood on it, his hair half out of his tie… Arno didn't want to insult him instead he simply shrugged.

"That bad?" Charles chuckled.

Arno's heart stopped to the woman that opened the door. She looked like a woman from a painting. Her skin was lightly powdered and had a beauty mark that rested just on her cheekbone. Her hair the color of almonds with amber shaded eyes that sparked. She had a natural blush that ran across her cheeks and décolletage as she opened the door fully and took Charles into her arms.

"Charles," Sabine whispered, "Where the hell have you been?"

Arno hadn't seen a woman show such love to his father, and a part of it made him feel whole. He had seen his father love his mother, but his mother would never mirror that same affection. Now this woman openly wrapped her arms around him; and to Arno's surprise, when she pulled back, she ran her small thumb over his lips to remove any blood and pressed her lips to his.

"Sabine," Charles whispered under their kiss, "This is my son."

"Oh!" Sabine laughed and pulled away, she turned to see Arno and stunned him again with her dazzling smile, "Arno, I have heard so much about you."

Arno took a hesitant step forward. He felt himself colliding into a world that his father secretly had. He cleared his throat but no words came out. Thankfully, steps had approached and Millie arrived with a small mug.

"For the boy," Millie breathed, " _Bastard stairs_."

Sabine took the cup and handed it to Arno. She pressed her full lips to his forehead, "Let's go have a rest, shall we?"

Arno nodded, putting the hot water to his lips. The ginger burned his throat but soothed his aching stomach. Arno walked ahead of his father into Sabine's room. It was lit by one lonely candle. Her large bed was cluttered with pillows and blankets. Clearly she was sleeping before their arrival. There was one large window that framed the full moon outside. It was quiet there, the building high enough to filter out the sounds of the city below.

"Arno, you can rest on my bed." Sabine smiled, "Just remove your shoes."

Arno obliged he was surprised that Sabine fluffed a pillow for him and pulled the blankets over him. She pushed a few rogue hairs from his eyes and brushed her soft fingertips over his eyes to encourage them to close. Arno rested, but it didn't keep him from peeking out, to spy on both Charles and Sabine to get answers for what happened that evening.

"He's lovely," Sabine smiled as she brushed her hair over her shoulder. She straightened a pendant around her neck suspended by a black ribbon, "What happened tonight?"

Charles made his way to the water basin by the window; Sabine helped him with his gauntlet and jacket before Charles started scooping water to wash his face.

"Did they come after Arno?"

"Of course they did." Charles swore, "Bastards, all of them, coming after children…"

"Arno's not the only child." Sabine took a rag from beside the basin and dabbed it in the water. She encouraged Charles to sit on a small stool by the table the basin was set on and out of frustration Charles sat on it. Sabine took the rag and started to dab away the evidence of the killings, "I have heard they are after another… A young daughter… An heir."

"What?" Charles looked up to Sabine, "A daughter?"

"The Grandmaster's." Sabine nodded, "They plan to kill their only heir to sabotage any chance of agreement between us."

"Damn it." Charles pulled the tie out of his hair, "Do they know?"

"I'm not sure… All I know is that there are spies on both sides. How else would this have been planned?" Sabine got more water from the basin onto the rag, "Do you have any enemies, Charles?"

"I'm alone mostly." Charles confessed, "You know this. I have very few in my circle."

Charles took his hands onto Sabine's little waist and ran his hands up the sides of her body and back down. She smiled and wiggled as he stood up. He pressed his lips to hers then to the tip of her nose and to her forehead before locking her in an embrace.

"What of… Marie…" Sabine blinked, "Do you think she would have incentive?"

"Honestly I think the woman is too… Drunk." Charles sighed, "Not to mention incredibly simple…"

"Have you told Arno about her?" Sabine asked gently.

"How do you tell your son that sort of truth?"

"There's no easy way." Sabine countered, "He'll find out one way or another."

"Can we stay?" Charles changed the subject, "Just for a few days? I need to get a few plans in order… Is the box still here?"

"Yes, under the bed." Sabine smiled, "Peculiar thing… I swear it makes sounds."

"It's my heart that's in there." Charles whispered, taking her hands and putting them to his lips, "You're hearing it beating."

"Oh, please!" Sabine laughed, "Your attempts at being romantic are very comedic, Charles."

"Thank you for keeping it safe." Charles smiled.

* * *

Arno woke to the sound loud birds. He saw his father was resting beside him on the large bed with his hand extended out to link with Sabine's. She rested with a light blanket over her on a plum colored lounge chair adjacent to the bed. She rested beautifully with one hand resting under her head.

"Good morning, son." Charles whispered to not disturb Sabine, "Did you get some sleep?"

Arno nodded.

"I wanted to talk to you about something, I wanted to talk to you about your mother." Charles sighed he released Sabine's hand so he could prop himself up against the headboard. He adjusted his shirt slightly and let out another long sigh.

"What about her?" Arno asked, "I know she's not coming back… Why doesn't she want to?"

"It's a story, Arno." Charles stated coldly, "I'm ready to tell you it if you're willing to listen."

Arno propped himself up and mirrored his father.

"Christ," Charles sighed again, "Your mother and I met years ago. She was to wed another man... An aristocrat in Versailles that was going to give her a beautiful life."

"Then she met you?" Arno giggled, knowing the outcome of this story.

"Yes, son. On the night of her engagement party we met and I knew that we would be together. It was that night that I met her privately in her quarters and we… Did things that her future husband would have never approved of."

Arno blushed, "You loved her."

"Yes son, I did." Charles laughed slightly at the memories; "I continued to. I found so much happiness with your mother and she had so much with me. One day I noticed her belly started to swell and since she was never with her husband-to-be, I knew that our love had created something.

"They told her to drink teas to stop the pregnancy, and to go away with him, but she didn't. Her stomach grew and finally when her fiancé found out, he ended the engagement, disgraced her family, and she ran to me. We left together and she had you in your very bedroom a few months later. You came out feet first. Almost killed her that you were so excited to be born. We decided that once she was in better health, we would be wed… But she took to the drink and she was never in better health."

"I'm a bastard?" Arno asked.

Charles sighed, "Yes."

Arno felt like he had swallowed a snowball, "Mother never wanted to marry you after I was born?"

"She struggled with many things, and the life I gave her was one of them." Charles said bluntly.

Arno blinked back the truth that was welling up in his eyes. _Bastard…_ Arno thought; he took the life his mother always wanted out from under her by merely existing. She did drink because she hated the life she had. The life that Arno had chained her to when she found out she was pregnant.

"Oh! Who's hungry," moaned Sabine, "Charles, why don't you go see what Millie has for breakfast?"

"Yes." Charles coughed, "I'll get us some breakfast then."

Charles bustled out of the room and closed the door behind him. As if it were a cue for Sabine, she got up from her chaise and to the bed where Arno sat. She locked her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. She smelt like sweet flowers. Arno closed his eyes and felt her arms pull his legs over her lap. She even started to rock him in a soothing motion.

"Shhh," Sabine whispered, "You know your father loves you very much. I've only known you for a day and I love you very much."

Arno let a tear silently roll down his cheek.

"You know," Sabine sighed, "I wish you were my boy. I would love to have you as my son… Just let it out."

Arno let himself cry over the night before and the news that her mother left because she had no obligation to stay… The fact she _didn't want_ to stay. He closed his eyes and pictured the fuzzy memory of his mother and the fact that the memory would only fade made him feel heavy inside. Arno heard his father enter.

"Oh, Christ." Charles sighed out, "I thought he was taking it fine."

"Charles!" Sabine's voice chimed like a bell, "You were a wee bit blunt. This boy has seen much more than any other 8-year-old."

"Damn," Charles put down the tray of breakfast on the dresser adjacent to the door and sat on the bed.

Arno opened his eyes and felt the arms of his father wrap around him with Sabine. It was as if this was how it should have been. _This_ was what a family felt like and for the moments that the embraced lasted Arno felt incredibly robbed for not having this sooner and for being the root for why it never happened.


	10. The Knights

_Paris, France_

 _January_

 _1776_

"Up, Elise! Put all your force upwards!" Mr. Weatherall belted, "Use your size to your advantage!"

Elise didn't pause to wipe the sweat from her brow, she took the knife she had and forced it upward. She kept her elbow bent and focused on the stab. _Faster, faster, harder, harder…_ Elise would breath quietly with every strike.

"Good!" Mr. Weatherall said, he tapped his cane with encouragement, "Take it to the model."

Elise walked over to the model soldier that was now cut and broken with age. Her lessons had gotten more intense as she grew, and now it would face another session with her knife. She stepped up to it and plunged the knife in what would be under the ribs.

"Hug him, Elise." Julie encouraged, coming into the training area mid lesson, "Don't give him room to hit you, stab in the back and go for his kidneys."

Elise obliged, stabbing until her feet could no longer hold herself up. She fell to her knee and tossed the knife aside to rub her wrist.

"Well, Freddie?" Julie looked to Mr. Weatherall, "What do you think of my daughter?"

"Impressive. Reminds me when we trained together." Freddie winked, "Luckily, I'm her trainer and not her schoolmate."

Elise pulled herself up and over to her mother. She kicked up dust as walked to her mentor and parent. Taking in deep breaths before interrupting their conversation.

"I need new shoes, Mother." Elise sighed, "These trap me."

"My little sprout," Julie smiled and ran her fingers through her sweaty hair, "Growing like a weed. Let's get you bathed and we'll go to town for the rest of the afternoon and get you some new shoes."

Elise hated dressing for town, but accommodated for the sake of new training shoes. She played with a few pins in her hair as the carriage came to a halt once they were in the bustling city. Elise played with her knife that hid in her muff, matching her mother to ensure that it maintained its shape… Among other reasons.

"Madame," Jean mentioned as he opened the door and offered his hands for his passengers, "I must be going in half an hour, the Grandmaster wishes to meet with me."

"Oh," Julie muttered, "I'm certain Francois would have let me know… Never mind that won't do, well certainly won't do. We will need more time." Julie scanned Jean for a second as if looking for a flaw on his impeccable suit that had a few white sprinkles of snow on it, "You go ahead and meet Monsieur del la Serre, I have enough coin to hire a carriage."

Jean bowed, "Good day."

With that said, Jean went back to the carriage and hustled down the cobblestone road. Elise saw her breath form into steam as her mother led the way down the busy street. Elise wrestled with her knife in her muff for a moment as she followed. It wasn't a long walk until they were at the familiar shoe shop.

"Christian," Julie called out, holding the door to let Elise in, "Christian, it's us!"

Christian didn't need a powdered wig. His hair stood elegantly on his long head and even longer neck. His suit was the color of the sky and his smile the shade of the snow falling.

"Madame Julie, Mademoiselle Elise," Christian took their hands in greeting, "Always a pleasure."

"She is ready for another pair of shoes if you can believe it." Julie rested her hand on Elise's shoulder, being sure to hold her muff securely in one hand, "We'll take one of those and I'll have a pair of those in the window…"

"Oui," Christian nodded, "Of course. I have Elise's pair ready for pick up and I will get that pair in your size."

"Merci beaucoup"

Elise was content with a pair of new training shoes, but Julie had her try on several dress shoes. Elise felt her stomach grow hungry and was tired from all the merchants at her feet.

"You know what? Do you think you have a pair of these in a child's size, Christian?"

Julie held up a radiant pair of diamond shoes. Elise gasped at the sight of them, their beauty was similar to the queen's.

"Ah, yes, just shipped from Italy, I'll see what I have."

"I have a dress in mind, it will be emerald. I need something to match that…"

"Of course." Christian continued he strutted from the back of his small shop with a box in hand, surrounded by thin tissue he pulled out the miniature shoe, "To be honest these were custom made but never picked up."

Elise watched as a merchant placed one on her foot. It was loose as she stood and walked around the area.

"Perfect. She'll grow into them for the event." Julie looked out the window; "We must be going, Christian, please if you don't mind shipping them to the home."

"Of course, I have your address. The fees as usual?"

Julie handed over a bag of coins, "Elise will be wearing out her training shoes."

"As I expected," chuckled Christian, "I'll see you for a new pair in a few months."

"Thank you again, Christian!"

Christian raised a long-fingered hand as Julie led Elise out of the shop. Elise could tell that her mother was stressed with how casual she acted. It seemed forced and unwanted. Even the smile just pulled at her mouth and not her eyes.

Elise looked around to see any cabbies that they could hire to take them home… The streets were barren and the hooded men extinguishing the dusk streetlights didn't make sense…

"Mother…" Elise whispered, "We're being followed."

"Look forward, sweet." Julie responded, "We do not acknowledge our followers. Remember training."

Hooded strangers continued to lurk in dark corners and down alleys. Elise tried to remain calm and look forward, but her heart pumped fear into her veins. Elise tried to moisten her throat as she clung to her knife in her muff. Julie took a sudden turn down an alley as hooded figures presented themselves from in front of their path.

"Wait for my call, Elise." Julie's voice shuttered slightly.

Elise scurried to her mother's side as the alley widened. Before them she saw two large men, taking down their hoods and exposing angry faces. Elise turned to look over her shoulder to see two other men, smaller in stature, but lengthier. They had smiles and cracked knuckles simultaneously.

"Gentlemen," Julie started, "I'm sorry to inform you that I don't have any spare coin on me -"

"Oh, we aren't homeless, Madame del la Serre." The first solider said, taking a step forward and taking her by the shoulders.

"Could have fooled me." Julie countered fearlessly.

"Best watch your words, woman. We were sent here by Shay Cormac…"

"Spare me your introduction, I know who you are. I know you want me." Julie rested on the wall, her hands still in her muff, "Shay Cormac is an impressionable coward and I don't need to hear a word more of him or his God forsaken cause about The Knights."

The men laughed, "It's not you we want."

As if according to plan, the two lengthy men went to Elise, dirty hands grabbing at her shoulders and pulling her up the wall.

"No!" Julie struggled now and the other brutes went to hold her down, "Don't you _dare you fucking animals."_

"You'll watch us…" The first man put his face inches from Julie's, "Rip your daughter apart, then you'll tell your Grandmaster that there's a new Order rising, and that The Knights are the new Templars."

Julie muttered something as she took one more attempt to wiggle free.

"What's that, bitch?"

"OVER MY DEAD BODY!" Julie spat in the man's face, "NOW, ELISE!"

Elise froze as she saw her mother pull her knife from her muff and as if she had done it hundreds of times before she plunged her knife to the hilt into the neck of the man holding her down, then to the stomach of the man beside her, and the last one. The last man, her instigator, she stabbed hard in the stomach and waited for him to bend over before shoving her knife through his eye socket.

Elise tried to mimic but one man held her arms to her side pulling her to the ground and preparing to slam her body to the cobble road. Elise heard a cacophony of sound as Julie fought the other man. She wiggled her skirt up as far as she could and kicked, she forced her assailant down and used one forceful kick to his chest to push him away. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she pulled her knife from her fallen muff and waited for the man to come back from her kick.

Elise hurled herself up and linked her legs around the skinny man, letting her available hand around his neck she could feel him trying to pry her away but she squeezed her body harder until she could feel his pulse. _Up, up, harder, harder, faster, faster…_ Elise thought. But she didn't expect to feel the blood pour from his wound. She didn't expect to here his gagging over her shoulder and the blood that leaked from his punctured lung to explode from his cough next to her ear. He released her and fell to his side. Elise untangled herself from him and barely stood. Every part of her was shaking as she saw the man before her take his dying breath.

Julie was gasping when she went to her daughter. Her chestnut hair was sticky with blood as she wrapped her arms around her. A sigh of relief came from her.

"Elise," Julie whispered, "I am so proud of you."

Elise tried to sigh in relief but the sent of blood made her stomach turn, she pulled away from her mother and gagged. Elise stumbled away; desperate to get away from the bloody scene, only to trip and fall on all fours and throwing up what pastries she had at Christian's. Her knife tainted red glistened beautifully by her bile.

"Mother," Elise shook, "I-I-I…"

"You're sick from killing, darling… It happens to us all. Can you walk?"

Elise shook her head and felt her hands and legs tingle. Soon she could only hear her heartbeat in her ears and nothing that her mother was saying and then only her heartbeat and the world blurring around her.

* * *

"They know. They know about our impending alliance." Julie's voice was shaking, "They tried to take our daughter, Francois!"

"We haven't had time to find out who the spy is," Francois countered as he strutted around the study, "We have a few options that can protect us."

"There are only a few that know of the meetings with Dorian." Julie took a deep breath, "The Knights are who we should be concerned about…"

"The damn Knights…"

"They are rising, Francois." Julie confirmed, "As damned as Shay is, his fucking… _cult_ is rising. They will take what we've earned and banish anyone that identifies as a Templar or Assassin."

"There's only one thing we can do."

"No." Julie stated as if she already knew the answer.

Francois nodded, he strutted over to the fireplace before finding the right words he knew Julie didn't want to hear, "We wed Elise."

"To whom?" Julie replied her words dripped with bitterness, "As if her getting married is going to change anything!"

"She marries Alastair."

"Alastair Williams?" Julie spat, "The snot of the British Order?"

"He's closest to her age and can provide the most protection, Julie!"

"The man's twice her age!"

"As am I to you!" Francois stated, "I love you, Julie. I always have. Our age never meant anything to me and it won't mean anything to Elise."

"What about…" Julie stopped.

"I know you, Julie." Francois took a step toward her, "I knew you had your heart set on that Weatherall bastard, but you know he would have never given you the protection I have."

"He did tonight…" Julie said quietly.

"I love you," Francois took Julie's hand, "I only wish you could love me as I love you."

"I do love you, my dear." Julie gave in and pulled Francois in for an embrace, "I only wish you could see the danger that you put her in by her being married."

"What?" Francois pulled away.

"How can we trust anyone now?"


End file.
